


Ribbon

by Lilypuddles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Grief, Heartbreak, Set after episode 30, friendship and family are important when you hurt, i cried, yasha centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilypuddles/pseuds/Lilypuddles
Summary: Loosing someone you care about hurts.





	Ribbon

She hadn’t cried in years, not like this, not in the way that made every last inch of her body ache with sobs as she clutched the fabric to her chest. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t even had a proper chance to say goodbye, to say…  _  anything  _ to the tiefling that had pulled her from the depths of despair without asking for a reward. She was on her knees in the dirt, the coat tangled in between her palms. The cloth stank of blood, the strange must of morning air and lavender. The purple flowers had always been a favourite of Mollymauks, he had used the essence as perfume since the day that Yasha had met him. She had almost begun to find the scent comforting during the long stretches of time she spend serving her own master. 

 

The other members of the Mighty Nien had stayed back, hadn’t dared to creep closer to the barbarian woman for fear of being accidentally attacked. Yasha could hear Jesters own sobs echoing around the trees, the gentle shushing of her friends and the strange choked sounds from Caleb that sounded suspiciously like the humans way of crying. She drew the fabric closer to her, pressing her face into the red velvet for a long moment.

 

It wasn’t right. None of this was right. She should have been there beside him, keeping the promise that she’d made to him the night that Molly had called her his sister. How had she let herself get kidnapped by a group of fools, magic users that had no right attempting to pick a fight with her. But yet somehow she’d been defeated. They’d won. And her punishment was six feet under the dirt in front of her. Yasha could feel the howl of pain in the back of her throat, filling her chest and escaping without her control, the raw emotion burning inside her chest. 

 

It could have been minutes, or hours, or days that she spend kneeling beside the grave, tears still streaming as she muttered prayers to the Stormlord, to the Raven Queen, to any God that could be listening.

 

“Yasha?” The voice behind her drew her back from her stupor, the woman's tone was surprisingly gentle.

 

Beau had no idea why it had been her that was the first one to move towards the asimar, usually she would have run as far away as possible from anything emotional. But this was different. In the short time that she’d known Mollymauk she had cared about him more than she’d cared about her own family members. Seeing Yasha, the one member of their party that had known him and loved him the most coming undone was too painful.

 

She hadn’t really expected an answer from the other figure, but it had made more sense to at least alert her that she was there before she moved within arms reach. The monks own eyes were sparkling with tears as she approached, standing beside the other woman.

 

“He saved our lives. It wasn’t- _ fuck _ , i’m bad at this- it wasn’t in vain. Mollys pretty much the reason we survived that fight.” Beau explained, chewing on her bottom lip as she concentrated on the inadequate grave in front of her: “He would probably have been pretty proud of that achievement, always seemed like the kind of guy that would want to die for a cause.”

 

Yasha couldn’t help but let the edges of her lips curl up slightly for just a moment, the other woman was right, and she was certain that Molly would make sure to collect that debt when the others joined him in the afterlife.

 

For a long moment, Beau was silent, rubbing away the tears from her own eyes with the back of her hand. The woman beside hers sobs seemed to had subsided just a little, her breathing calming.

 

“I should have been here.” The barbarians voice was cracked, barley above a whisper as she spoke: “Molly didn’t deserve….he….” 

 

“It’s  **_not_ ** your fault.” Beau cut across her, finally giving in and kneeling down beside the taller figure: “He would be pretty pissed if he knew you thought that, Yasha. It just… happened. There wasn’t anything we could have done. We’d all be dead if it wasn’t for him.”

 

Without thinking, the Monk had lent across slightly, trying to put her arm around her friend. Physical affection wasn’t particularly one of her talents, but she had to try. To her surprise, Yasha respond, letting the fabric lower from her face as she lent into Beaus touch, resting against her chest as her arms wrapped around her.

 

The two of them stayed huddled together until the barbarian had cried herself out, the humans own cheeks stained with silent tears as she mourned. Molly's coat, his signature dress, was still tangled between the two of them, ribbons and silks dirty with muck and blood.

 

The ribbons gave Beau an idea. Carefully, she untangled one, glancing down at Yasha still pressed against her chest.

 

“Hey…uh... Do you want this? Is it okay if I put it in your hair? I’m pretty certain Molly would want you to have something.” She offered, keeping her voice low as she tried to resist the urge to run away from the overwhelming emotions inside her chest.

 

The taller woman didn’t speak, but she nodded, shifting slightly to give Beau access to her tangled black and white locks. Yashas hair was already thick with plaits and beads, ribbons and feathers from her travels expertly woven in by tiefling hands. The humans addition wasn’t perfect, but the deep purple fabric was fastened tightly into the back of the asimars head. 

 

“Now he’s always with you.” Beau muttered as she lent back slightly to inspect her work. The sentiment brought another slight smile to Yashas lips as she untangled herself from the affection, straightening up as she looked around at her companion. The dark makeup around her eyes was almost washed away, the last smears of it staining down her cheeks. For the first time since they’d met, Yasha looked vulnerable.

 

“He always will be.” She replied as she reached for the coat, beginning to untangle another of the ribbons, quickly followed by another, and another. Soon her hand was filled with enough for each of the party members.

 

The gifts where soon distributed, handed to each of the original members of the Mighty Nien with silent gratitude. Beaus idea had been a simple one, but the scraps of fabric where soon wrapped around important objects. Fjords around the hilt of his sword, Jesters into her scrapbook to the Traveller, Caleb's to his spellbook, Notts to her flask, and Beaus to her staff. 

 

For the first time since they had all met, there was almost silence between the group as Molly's grave was tidied, a dose of magic added by the newest companion of the party and the coat returned to its place as a headstone.

 

Nobody looked back as they turned away, hands and arms wrapped around each other as the party headed back into the sunset, preparing themselves for the next chapter of their story. 


End file.
